Only Run For So Long
by KitKatt0430
Summary: Star Wars Fusion: Hartley Rathaway's been on the run for years, hiding from his former Jedi Master whom Hartley knows to secretly be a Dark Jedi. But when he trips over Knight Cisco Ramon on his way off an exploding ship, Hartley may find that the Force has other plans for him. It may very well be time for him to face his past, if he wants to keep the life he's made for himself.


Summary: Hartley Rathaway's been on the run for years, hiding from his former Jedi Master whom Hartley knows to secretly be a Dark Jedi. But when he trips over Knight Cisco Ramon on his way off an exploding ship, Hartley may find that the Force has other plans for him. It may very well be time for him to face his past, if he wants to keep the life he's made for himself.

Notes: First in the Between the Darkness and the Light series

So, the whole non-attachment rules for the Jedi always seemed like poorly thought out BS to me and no one has ever managed to convince me otherwise. So I'm re-imagining the Jedi Order here. Various temples across republic space, each with their own council with representatives that make up the main Jedi Council. The Head of the Order is in some Temple other than Coruscant, not Dantooine but maybe Corellia? I haven't decided yet. But the Coruscant Council is pushing the non-attachment rules to make them apply to all Jedi, not just members of their Temple.

There are Temple Jedi. There are roving Jedi, that go where the Force calls them. There are lots and lots of Jedi.

This takes place post both _Knights of the Old Republic_ games and references them several times. It ignores the events of _Star Wars: The Old Republic_.

_**Only Run For So Long**_

The Rogue shuddered as another series of blasts hit it and the klaxons that had been blaring abruptly gave out… along with all the lights, save for the emergency glows along the floor.

Hartley swore. He'd told Snart it was suicide to double cross this particular Hutt, but the Captain had sent Hartley down below to keep an eye on the hyperdrive as they headed back to Obsidian.

"If you knew what our cargo was, you wouldn't be so eager to hand it over to a slimy worm. We'll ransom it back to the Jedi and be done with it," Snart had said. "We'll tell Duella that we failed to acquire the entire cargo after all. Bitch'll never know the difference."

Though prescience had never been Hartley's strong suit, he'd known, deep in his bones, that something was about to go very wrong. It had to be that Duella had somehow learned of Snart's duplicity. Or she was just straight up double crossing them.

It didn't really matter. The ship was dead in space.

Hartley used the manual release on the door just in time to see the first mate, Rory, run past. "Abandon ship kid," the gruff man shouted over his shoulder.

The floor shuddered again, worse this time with no deflectors up. Hartley nodded to himself and then went back into the engine room and to yank open a hidden compartment that he was relatively sure no one else knew about. He'd been very meticulous about adding it himself, after all.

Inside was a lightsaber. If Hartley were to fire it up, it'd blaze with a radiant orange glow. But he hadn't used it in years, even tried to throw it away a few times. Never could go through with it, though.

It got tucked away in an inside pocket of his jacket, along with the small emergency cache of credits and the fake ident card he'd stashed with it.

Rath Holloway was the name on the ident card. Close enough to Hartley's real surname, Rathaway, that he'd answer to it easy enough. And he'd been going by that name for the last three years, since joining Snart's smuggling crew.

He'd known it'd come to an end eventually. Everything always did. He'd just never thought it'd end with the ship itself going down in flames.

Back out into the corridor, Hartley took off in the direction Mick Rory had gone in. They had a few escape pods over there and at least a few ought to still be there. They had more pods than crew at the moment, after all.

When he was almost to the pods, Hartley tripped over something on the floor. Not exactly a surprise, given how the turbolaser blasts had knocked so much of the ship apart already. Though the stillness on the ship now implied that they were about to be boarded, if they hadn't been already.

A shiver crawled up Hartley's spine. He had to get out of here.

Moving to stand back up, Hartley's hand touched something soft. Hair. Long, dark, soft hair attached to a human, knocked unconscious when the bulkhead half collapsed. A human wearing very distinctive robes.

A Jedi on the Rogue. Sithspit. No wonder Snart had wanted to ransom their cargo back to the Jedi. Their cargo was a fragging Jedi.

Hartley swore and punched the damaged wall to his left. He should leave the Jedi behind. It'd be safer for him not to be carrying the dead weight around and the situation would surely only get worse when the Jedi woke. He really, really should leave the man behind.

Swearing softly to himself, Hartley patted the unconscious man down for his lightsaber, which was then slipped into Hartley's jacket alongside his own, and then he picked up the other man, tossing him over Hartley's shoulder and leaning heavily into the Force so that he could stand back up and make good time to the last of the escape pods.

The pod jettisoned just in time for Hartley to watch the ship blow up behind them.

* * *

Cisco had been a Knight for exactly one week before he was kidnapped by the Hutts.

One week.

When he got back to the Temple, Barry and Ronnie were never going to let him live it down. But there'd been an upside and that had been that he'd escaped, lightsaber intact. The downside being that he was almost immediately recaptured, this time by smugglers.

He was never going to reach Obsidian to carry out his actual mission at this rate. Assuming news of his capture (either one) hadn't reached the Dantooine Council that had sent him; if it had, they'd probably sent someone to take over his mission and someone else to save him.

However, as a continuing testament to Cisco's awful luck, the ship was attacked and power went out. Which should've been a good thing, as it let him retrieve his lightsaber (again) and the Force was guiding him to the escape pods. Sadly, the Force did not warn him about the wall collapsing on him and everything went dark.

Considering the condition the ship was in when Cisco was knocked unconscious, it came as a shock to him when he woke up alive some time later. It made slightly more sense once he realized he was strapped into a seat inside an escape pod.

Cisco started to reach for his lightsaber, just to be sure he still had it, when he heard a voice say "looking for this?" He looked up to see his lightsaber, very much not in Cisco's pocket, being waved by the only other occupant of the pod.

The man was human – or near enough – with ash blonde hair and striking green eyes. And an amused, sort of lofty expression on his face that immediately put Cisco's hackles up.

"You can have it back on one condition," the man continued.

"What's that?" Cisco asked, his voice raspy from his time spent unconscious.

"Don't use it on me."

"I promise I won't use my lightsaber against you," Cisco responded easily. "I assume I have you to thank for getting me off that ship?"

The man handed over the lightsaber just like that. No more stipulations, no manipulations. Cisco looked it over before sliding it into his robes' pocket. Superficially it looked fine but he'd have to give it a closer look later.

"My name is Rath Holloway," the man – Holloway – told him. "I was essentially the Rogue's engineer. And, yes, I dragged you along with me to the escape pod when I found you taking a nap on the floor. I realize getting good sleep is difficult but perhaps not the best time for it."

Cisco didn't know if he wanted to bristle at Holloway or laugh. "I was only there because you people kidnapped me."

"If it makes you feel better, Snart – our Captain – is vociferously against slavery. Worst he'd have done is threatened you and ransomed you back to the Jedi for as much as they'd be willing to pay." Holloway's words are honest from what Cisco can tell through the Force.

Not that Cisco can tell much. The man's presence is muted in the Force; he probably had a good teacher in meditation, as even people who couldn't feel the Force could learn to manipulate their presence in it with enough time and patience. It's not a common skill, but certainly smugglers, bounty hunters, and their ilk were more likely to know how.

"That does make me feel better, actually. Still embarrassed about how badly my mission is going, but I'll get over it. My name is Knight Cisco Ramon. Do you know where we are?"

Holloway gestured to an open panel in the wall. "Nav is burnt out, as are thruster controls, and the comm unit. We're sitting ducks out here and very, very lucky that whoever shot us up either didn't notice us or assumed we were already dead from the explosion. I've been trying to get the comms back up to see if any of the rest of the crew survived, but if you have any engineering experience it'd be a help if you could get started on thrusters. Nav is totally shot, but there's a planet a day away from here we could do an emergency landing on. Oxygen might last us five days if we're lucky, but I don't want to risk that the sensor readings are wrong on those levels."

Cisco nodded. "I'm an excellent engineer. I'll get those thrusters back up in no time," he carefully undid his restraints and pushed out of his seat, floating over to the control panel. "How do you intend to safely land us on the planet with no nav to calculate a safe descent angle?"

"I'm a genius," Holloway replied, tone matter of fact and not bragging despite the words. "I can calculate the angle of entry through the atmosphere in my head. You've got the Force going for you, so I'm sure you'll be of some use for making course corrections as needed."

Cisco did bristle at that. He was a genius himself, he could do more than act as a Force barometer. "What planet is it?"

"Officially its designated Planet O-BS10 on the official Republic charts. And its noted as uncolonized because the Republic doesn't want to acknowledge the settlement on the Northern Continent, which I'm going to try and land us on if we can. The locals call it Obsidian because O-BS10 almost sounds like the word when you pronounce it phonetically as obsten."

Cisco hoped he didn't give away his excitement but… the Force really did move in funny ways. He was on his way to Obsidian after all. And from there he would be well within the time limit the Dantooine council gave him to meet the seller and authorize a transaction to purchase the Sith artifacts. He'd still need to contact the council to get the funds for a ride back off the planet, but still. That was one bizarre stroke of luck.

"Its primarily a smuggler outpost," Rath continued, not seeming to notice Cisco's increased interest. "Not the most friendly territory for a Jedi, so be careful when we get there. You strike me as trouble prone."

Grimacing, Cisco had to concede the point. "I guess I kind of am. Anyway..." he snatched one of the tools Rath had floating around in order to start poking at the thruster controls. Some of the wiring needed to be replaced but, on first inspection at least, the circuit boards seemed to be in good condition. "I think I may need to cannibalize whatever wires are still good from the nav controls."

"Be my guest," Rath muttered, returning to his own work on the comms.

* * *

Hartley always had a weakness for attractive and intelligent men. And Cisco Ramon? Definitely fit that bill to a very dangerous T. If they'd met at a dive bar somewhere instead of an exploding space ship, Hartley probably would've tried to pick the Knight up for a good time.

But Cisco Ramon was dangerous for far more reasons than how perfectly he fit Hartley's type.

The number of Jedi in the galaxy had shot way up over the last few centuries, but with Hartley's former master so heavily involved in the Coruscant Council's business, Hartley didn't dare risk news of him eventually filtering back that way. This part of the Outer Rim was Dantooine Council territory, if Hartley was remembering the sector divisions properly, so he'd have a good head start. Plenty of time to wrap up his business with the remaining Rogues and disappear to parts unknown where he could swap identities - probably a few times over to be sure - and start up again somewhere else.

It stunned Hartley just how viscerally he hated the idea of pulling up roots, though. Lisa had become like a sister to him and Len, for all that he could be such an asshole, was family too. Mick wouldn't admit to having a gooey center or a penchant for taking people who felt broken inside and giving them a safe environment to fix themselves, but that was exactly what Mick excelled at. (Hartley himself had been one of Mick's errant 'chicks', as Len put it. Axel was Mick's latest broken bird, recovering from a stint with an abusive father and a mother who'd enabled Axel's worst excesses rather than try to figure out what her kid really needed from her.) Mark was a good confidant and probably the only former lover Hartley had managed to part on good terms with. Even Shawna, Mark's new girl, was someone Hartley would miss. (She was a sweetheart and didn't rub it in that Mark was in her bed instead of Hartley's these days.) Roy's over the top artist airs... Axel's penchant for blowing shit up...

Everyone else was pretty much temporary crew, people who came and went and weren't much missed when they took their haul and moved on to the next job. But the Lisa and the rest?

"That was a good try, really. I taught you to play the game well, but you were a beginner going up against a Master. And you failed. So, Hartley, remember this. If I see you again, I'll kill you. But not before I make you watch me systematically destroy anything and anyone in your life that you love."

They'd be safer with him gone. He had to keep telling himself that and, somehow, he'd manage to start over again without them. Rath Holloway was officially burned.

At sixteen, Hartley'd been alone. Abandoned by a Council that abdicated its duty to protect him because the council members valued friendship over procedure. After all, the outcome was obvious wasn't it? Hartley was just a bad seed. And his bright idea to run to his parents for protection had forced Hartley to confront the truth that the growing element of regressivism was tainting not just the Jedi of the Coruscant Temple and sub temples, but entire planets of the Republic.

The Rathaways were a prominent family on the colony world of Ledellia Two. The Council should have paid for Hartley's passage there, but instead he'd used the last of his credits to go there. He'd barely seen or heard from his parents since he was eight, but he'd hoped they'd still care enough about him to welcome him home. If he'd come back a Knight, they might even have done exactly that. But they were instead quite displeased with Hartley's arrival at their doorstep. They had an heir in the form of Hartley's younger sister Jerrie and they had no use for someone who'd failed out of the Jedi as he had. Especially considering he was gay and Ledellia Two, as it so happened, was toeing the letter of the law of the Republic while still managing to make life hell for any queer residents of the colony.

Hartley'd convinced them to give him money and buy him his first set of fake ident cards before sending him on his way. The fake idents were shitty quality, but they got him out to Telos where, for a few heartbeats, Hartley had considered taking his story about his expulsion to the Telos Council. But Harrison had contacts there - Hunter Zolomon, though Hartley wasn't sure how high up in the Temple hierarchy Zolomon was - and Hartley deemed it not worth the risk. Another set of ident cards later, and Hartley had moved on.

He'd been Harry Lee for a few months, used several variations of Meadow (derived from the meaning of his first name), and even spent a year working a luxury cruise line as a bartender named Raiden Hart. And then, as Rath Holloway, Hartley'd fallen in with the Rogues. Lisa found and vetted him for what was supposed to be a one time job. Three years later, Hartley was a regular member of the crew. No one had taken better care of those engines than him... and now it was all gone.

The escape pod comms crackled back to life under Hartley's careful ministrations. Hartley checked in with Mick and Axel. Snart was a no show, but Hartley had a feeling the man was okay. The rest of the temp crew was dead, though. Destroyed by turbolaser fire before the ship responsible turned to land on Obsidian.

Duella might have hired someone on Obsidian to destroy the Rogue, but it wasn't likely. Hartley had to revise his opinion of who was responsible… and was left with no viable names. Snart and the rest of the crew had enemies, yes, but no one this dangerous.

Hartley had a bad feeling about making planet fall now. But the Wizard, Mark Mardon's ship, was too far out to reach them before their oxygen ran low and there was a worrying silence from their allies on the ground. Planet fall was their only option.

"Thrusters are good, but we're still gonna crash pretty hard," Ramon reported, sliding back into his seat and securing his restraints.

They'd been working pretty much non-stop for the last twenty-four hours. Getting the thrusters working, coming up with a re-entry plan, using the nav computers on Mick and Axel's pods to check Hartley and Ramon's math… and it was now time to see how it all fit together. Either they crashed and lived or they screwed up and died.

"Please put your tray tables in an upright position, try to breathe normally, remember that the emergency exit is to your left, and I hope you enjoyed your flight on Broken Escape Pod One," Hartley intoned, earning a startled laugh from the Knight.

"Worked on a cruise liner?" Ramon asked.

"Yeah, bartender though. A lot of fun, kept on with it longer than I'd intended," Hartley told him, then grimaced as the pod began to shake, hard.

Atmospheric entry had begun.

The shaking only got worse and Hartley had to use the thrusters sparingly to make micro adjustments while Ramon sank into the Force to call out directions. Unfortunately, damage to the thrusters was far worst than the inside panel requiring mending. Though Knight Ramon had done an admirable job of fixing the controls. The thrusters were slow to respond to shut off, meaning every burn lasted several seconds too long and wasted fuel. Hartley attempted to compensate once he realized what the issue was, but the fuel itself was either being improperly measured by the pod's sensors or they were leaking it.

The tank readings were dropping like a stone.

Hartley swore in Huttese when he tried to correct the latest thruster misfire only to get zero response. "We're out of fuel."

"We're gonna hit the water instead of land at this rate," Ramon grimaced. "Maybe I can fix it some other way..."

Ramon reached out with the Force, trying to correct their descent but it wasn't enough.

Cursing in his head, Hartley reached out too, the extra push hopefully enough to send them careening towards a beach. Not that Hartley knew for sure; the impact knocked him out.

* * *

Cisco blinked several times trying to clear his vision before he finally conceded that maybe the lights had died on impact.

"Rath?"

No answer.

Cisco struggled with his restraints and got out of his chair the moment they snapped opened, stumbling over to the other man. A quick check revealed a steady pulse and an uncomfortable amount of blood matting the back of the man's head.

Never particularly talented at healing, Cisco tried using the Force for that anyway. He wasn't sure it helped and he resolved to check for medical supplies once he had enough light. Which meant getting the pod door open. Thankfully, the pod had landed with the exit pointing out and away from the ground, though the pod itself felt like it was tilted pretty heavily to one side.

The manual release on the door took some persuading, but Cisco managed to wrench it open. Light flooded the compartment and he found himself momentarily blinded by the early morning light as the sun came up over the horizon.

There was a low, pained moan behind Cisco and he turned his attention back to the interior of the pod.

"Holloway?" Cisco questioned.

"Hmm?" Eyes that weren't focusing gazed at Cisco in confusion.

"Are there any medical supplies stored on these escape pods?" Cisco asked.

"What?"

"Medical supplies," Cisco repeated patiently. "You're injured, Rath. Probably concussed. Are there any supplies I can use to treat you?"

Holloway pointed at a small compartment near Cisco's feet, which the Knight dove at, prying it open and sighing in relief at the small cache of bacta patches.

"Alright... so I'm going to apply this to the back of your head, okay? You hit it pretty hard when we crashed." Cisco held up one of the patches and waited for acknowledgment. The last thing he wanted was to freak Holloway out while he was confused from the concussion.

"Yeah… tha's fine."

Cisco approached and carefully applied the medical patch, first having to brush Holloway's hair out of the way to try and figure out where the bleeding was coming from. But once the ideal spot was located, Cisco was fast about it, knowing the patches could sting really fucking bad.

But Holloway didn't even twitch. And when Cisco pulled away to observe his fellow escapee… it was to the sight of Rath Holloway unconscious again.

Hopefully that wasn't a bad sign. Holloway was the only one who knew if they'd landed on the right continent or which direction to go to reach the Obsidian settlement.

Cisco checked around and started inventorying their supplies and trying to gauge how far they could feasibly travel with their current rations. Thankfully there was a field kit for testing water and food for poisonous substances. They'd, hopefully, be able to make it to the settlement just fine once Holloway woke up and told him which way they needed to go.

And, maybe, at some point during their little trek… Cisco could ask Holloway where he learned to use the Force.

* * *

Hartley doesn't remember the crash afterwards. He doesn't really remember most of that day, either. Not waking up to point Ramon at the medical supplies. Not waking up again to stumble out of the pod to collapse in the sand. He slipped in and out of consciousness for a good twenty-four hours while Ramon swapped out bacta patch after bacta patch and, apparently, attempted to use his limited healing skills with the force to lessen the nasty after effects of the concussion Hartley'd suffered.

The Knight must've done a decent job at it, though, because Hartley wakes up the next day – near noon – and though he feels like shit, Hartley's lucid and able to think clearly.

"We're actually not too far from the settlement," Hartley told Ramon. "If we pull the comm unit from the pod and rewire it to work off an independent power source – which we can also yank from the pod – then after about a day's walk that way," Hartley pointed in the direction of Obsidian City, "we should be able to contact Lisa, Mick, or Axel. They can triangulate our position and either come get us or course correct us so we can walk into town on our own."

"I'll get started on the comm unit, then," Ramon told him. "You sit here and recover some more. That blow to the head really messed you up and I'm not convinced you're recovered enough to be up and about. Tell me if you get woozy. Or fuzzy. Or tired. Or...

"If I start to feel like a fainting flower, I'll let you know," Hartley interrupted, restraining the urge to roll his eyes. "Removing the comm unit should be straight forward enough, but you'll need to pry out the floor panel to reach the pod's emergency battery supply. I'll just sit here and look pretty."

"You might want to wash the bacta and blood out of your hair while you're sitting around," Ramon offered, handing him a water bottle. "You'd look a lot prettier cleaned up."

Hartley nodded and scooted off the blankets Ramon had settled him on and then pulled off his shirt which was, unfortunately, totally ruined. The back was covered in blood stains that made Hartley wince to see. Head wounds bled like a bitch, but still. That was a lot of dried blood. His jacket, discarded beside their blanket pile, wasn't in any better shape.

It mad his skin itch along his neck, where there was probably more dried blood. Hartley suspected Cisco was a better healer than he gave himself credit for.

Carefully, Hartley used the water in the bottle to rinse out his hair and wash as much of the dried blood and bacta off himself. He took a moment to feel along the back of his skull, which was still a little tender the way a healing bruise might be, to find the tell tale signs of a raised scar.

Ramon had probably saved his life. More than probably.

"Guess that makes us even," Hartley muttered to himself. He'd saved the Knight from the exploding ship, the Knight saved him from the awful crash landing.

Snagging the top blanket off the pile (which already had blood on it from Hartley sleeping on it over the past day), Hartley used it to carefully dry his hair and back. Then he turned to his shirt and jacket. He really didn't want to put either one back on, but he didn't keep spare clothes in his bug out stash. Just the spare fake ident, half his credits, and the lightsaber.

Carefully, Hartley checked the stash in his jacket. All still there, undisturbed in the zipped inner pocket. Ramon probably hadn't even noticed them in his rush to get the jacket off of Hartley the day before. Probably. Hartley was… ninety percent certain the Knight would've remarked on the lightsaber if he'd found it.

The jacket was an old one, coming apart at the seams as it was. He only wore it while in engineering, to protect himself from sparks and the like. (His new jacket had blown up with the rest of his clothes, which sucked.) Sighing when his lightsaber slid through a new hole in the seam of the jacket's inner pocket, Hartley unzipped the pockets on his pants where he kept his hold out blaster and transferred the credits and ident card to sit with the blaster and put the lightsaber in the other, where it just barely fit. What was left of the jacket might make a decent pillow for the night.

There'd barely been enough water in the bottle to wash himself up with and he probably still looked like a half-dead, bedraggled survivor of an apocalypse. There probably wasn't enough fresh water to clean up his shirt with too. But unlike Hartley, the shirt wouldn't shriek in pain if salt water got into its rips and tears. So he could, theoretically, go wash it further down the beach where the ocean water lapped peacefully at the sand.

But when Hartley stood up, he felt dizzy and weak. Ramon had a point about him not being well enough for a long walk towards the city. So he went back to the little blanket pallet and settled back down, using the 'towel' to cover his shoulders from the sun.

A few minutes later, Ramon deposited the comm unit next to him. "Can you get started on rewiring it while I work on getting it a battery?"

"Sure. Looking prettier now?" Hartley couldn't help himself. Ramon was hot. And Hartley could blame the flirting on his concussion if he wanted to.

"It's an improvement," Ramon allowed, smile tugging at his lips. "Still pretty pale, though. Try eating one of the emergency rations." Ramon produced a ration back and another water bottle from a rucksack on one side of the blankets. Then he snatched up the empty bottle to stow away. "Once I've got the battery free, I'm going to boil us up some replacement water for what we've used so far. There's a source of clean water feeding into the ocean a short walk from here."

"Find that yesterday?" Hartley asked, twisting the ration pack to set off the warming chemicals. It'd be ready to eat soon enough, though the rations tasted something awful.

"Sort of. Sometimes I touch things and get visions and… I had a vision of the river yesterday afternoon when I was testing the ocean water. The river water will be a lot safer for us to use for restocking supplies. There's some micro-biologicals in there that we don't want to get on us, so stay up near the blankets, okay?"

"Sure. Toxic creatures?" Hartley vaguely remembered Lisa pouting about it not being safe to go to the beach on this world, now that he was thinking about it. She'd stayed planet side this trip, looking into some newbies on planet who dealt in exotic goods. He hadn't liked leaving her to look into things with only Roy watching her back, but...

"Yeah. I can take your shirt with me when I head to the river. See if I can get it cleaned up?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks," Hartley blinked in slight confusion. His mind had wandered pretty far there.

Ramon frowned. "Dizzy?"

"A little. But its passed," Hartley insisted.

"You… you used the Force when we crashed. To help me redirect us to the beach." Cisco looked uncertain. "That was… you had to have had training at some point to do that."

"What's your point?" Hartley asked stiffly, nervous energy flooding him and making his stomach twist in knots. Suddenly the rations heating up in his hands made him feel ill.

"Um… well… if you know how to do something like that, then maybe you know how to meditate too. Which, if you can meditate then I could help you into a healing trance. If you want." Ramon sounded nervous and… Hartley couldn't blame him.

The Jedi weren't the only Force users in the galaxy. There were a handful of others, most of which did not like the Jedi for one reason or another.

The Order of the Whills didn't like the Jedi for embracing violence, but was the largest order after the Jedi. They were dedicated to pacifism, chronicling history, communing with the Force. Any one could join the Whills, unlike the Jedi, though obviously the whole communing with the Force thing went better if one was actually Force sensitive.

There were a number of cultures across the known galaxy that had religions related to the Force as well. The witches of Dathomir, the Elders of Rakata Prime… all of which took a dim view of the Jedi and their take on the Force being practically enshrined by the Senate as the State Religion of the Republic. So too did a small, but thriving network of unaffiliated Force users across the Republic.

And then there were the Sith. The Sith Empire had been beaten back out of Republic space and much of their territory annexed during the last great war. But the Sith Empire remained, just outside the Republic's borders. A handful of planets inhabited by a warrior culture that valued the use of the Dark Side of the Force above all else and had been coopted by Fallen Jedi thousands of years ago, turning the burning hatred of the Sith towards a singular purpose. Destroying the Jedi.

Technically, Hartley fell into the final category. He was, in the eyes of the Coruscant Council, a fallen Jedi. And of course the Fallen must hate the Jedi right?

Wrong. Fear them, perhaps, but Hartley didn't hate the Jedi Order. He reserved his hate for the Jedi Masters who'd actually harmed him. Master Harrison Wells most of all.

Swallowing hard, Hartley nodded slowly. "I'd appreciate that. I never learned how to do it on my own."

Cisco nodded, and then grimaced. "It might take a few tries. Like I, uh, mentioned. Healing isn't my strong suit."

"Can't be too bad at it. You kept me from dying yesterday," Hartley observed, the closest he was going to get to a thank you for now.

"Right, well I… I'm going to get that battery and we can do the healing trance thing once I'm done refilling our water. I can take over rewiring the comm at that point while you use the Force to heal."

"Sounds like a good plan."

* * *

Cisco isn't sure what made him offer to help Rath into a healing trance. He was awful at those himself, how did he think he was going to manage guiding someone else?

And Holloway was still an enigma. There was no telling where he learned to use the Force. But… he'd saved Cisco's life back on the ship. Someone affiliated with the Dark Side of the Force wouldn't have done that.

No, a darksider would've left a Jedi to rot.

So Cisco resolves to make good on his promise. He fetches the battery and then replenishes their water – the small river is right where Cisco's vision said it'd be and the water tested negative for the critters infesting the ocean water – after chemically treating and boiling it to be thorough.

Rath looks like he's about to pass out by the time Cisco gets back to their little blanket patch by the pod. Maybe he should get the guy to sleep some before trying the healing trance out.

"Alright, how are we doing this trance thing?" Holloway demands, sounding determined.

Sleep was clearly out.

"So, uh, first we start meditating. When we're both calm and centered and, uh..." Cisco floundered. He was so bad at describing meditation. Why was he so bad at describing meditation?

"At peace with the Force?" Rath offered wryly.

"Yes. That." Cisco grimaced.

"You might want to work on your explanations before you get yourself a padawan."

"I've only been a Knight for a few weeks," Cisco muttered, pouting.

"Alright, I'll stop teasing. That's a few weeks longer than I've ever been a Knight, after all." There was something to Rath's tone that made Cisco want to ask which Temple he'd been raised at.

He refrained from asking. "Once we're both in a deep state of meditation, I'll reach out and guide you into a healing trance. It'll be easier to just show you what to do at that point than try to explain it, since we've established I suck at explaining this."

Rath nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Cisco settled into a comfortable position beside Holloway and they both started meditating. It took them both a while to center themselves, but finally Cisco was able to reach out and prod Rath into following his lead. Holloway was a fast learner, picking up on the bio-feedback techniques quickly. He had a good sense of time, too, but he let Cisco 'program' his trance to auto snap him out of it in time for dinner.

Then Cisco was blinking his eyes open and tackling the comm unit on his own. There wasn't much left to do; Holloway was a pretty skilled engineer. In fact, the receiver should already be operational.

Cisco flicked it on to calibrate the device. And… picked up a signal.

"-on behalf of the Jedi Council of Coruscant," came a smooth voice through the comm unit. A familiar voice, at that.

For a moment, Cisco thought he was hearing the voice of his former Master, Harold "Harry" Wells. He was part of the Dantooine Council, though. Not the Coruscant Council, so why would he… but then it clicked. That wasn't Harry. That was one of his brothers. Not HR, he was with the Temple of Ossus and ran a museum there dedicated to the various prophecies of the Jedi. What was Master Harry's other brother's name?

Harrison. Master Harrison Wells was not a part of the Coruscant Council, but he belonged to the Temple there and was often used as an emissary on the council's behalf. But what was he doing all the way out here? This part of the Republic was part of Dantooine's purview.

"Ah… yes… I though I was to be expecting your former padawan," said Gim Daylen, the contact with the Sith artifact. Cisco recognized the voice, having spoken to him briefly before leaving the Dantooine Temple.

"I think you may have confused me for my younger brother," replied Master Wells in a smooth tone that made Cisco shiver uncomfortably. "It's truly a shame, but young Knight Ramon was waylaid on his way to Obsidian and is believed dead."

Cisco swore. He was not fucking dead. Not that he could transmit that information right now. He really needed to fix the transponder.

There was something odd, though, about what Master Wells said, though. He's not really sure what it is, though, just that he's got prickles running across his skin.

"I'm sorry for your brother's loss then." Gim sounded uncomfortable himself.

"I'll be landing shortly and would like to invite you to join me aboard my ship. We can negotiate the sale of the artifact in comfort, shall we?"

The prickling feeling across Cisco's skin got worse, like leftover sparks of the Force from his earlier meditation. The early warning signs of a vision.

Cisco quickly set aside the comm, switching it off, and bracing himself for whatever was coming… but he only saw a red lightsaber arcing down towards an orange one. The rage he'd felt from whoever was wielding the red blade, though, made his hands shake when his sight cleared. The orange blade, though… the person holding it had felt resolute. Protective even.

Shivering, Cisco pulled out his own lightsaber and got up to move a ways down from the blankets. He'd do a few katas, clear his head, and then get to work on wiring up the rest of the comm unit. Whatever that vision meant… well… he'd find out eventually. He always did.

* * *

Time always sort of melts away when meditating, but the healing trance is something else entirely. Hartley's grateful that Cisco set a timer on him because it feels like barely any time passed at all before he was opening his eyes and blinking at the setting sun on the horizon.

The air has gotten a bit chillier, but it takes Hartley a moment to realize why he doesn't feel it.

Knight Ramon had draped his outer robes around Hartley's bare shoulders. It makes Hartley blush despite himself as that knowledge sinks in. He hasn't… he hasn't worn Jedi robes in a long time and he'd forgotten how soft and comfortable the fabric could be. It's almost like going home. For half a heartbeat, anyway.

Hartley blinks the tears away from his eyes before Cisco can look over and notice he's awake.

"So, what's for dinner?" Hartley asked.

Ramon looked over and smiled, pleased to see Hartley awake. "Rations and more rations… but for dessert I found some berries that tested as safe with our little kit here." Cisco patted the survival pack that Len had insisted on kitting every escape pod with.

Hartley really hopes Snart's okay.

"You're spoiling me," Hartley teases, just to see if Cisco will blush for him. And the Knight does.

Flirting with the Knight is playing with fire and Hartley knows it, but… he'd going to disappear after this anyway. Why shouldn't he have a little fun in his last few days as Rath Holloway?

"Only the best for you," Ramon teases in response, fluttering his lashes at Hartley.

They're both in awful condition and Cisco's got stubble on his face that shouldn't look this attractive, but Hartley kind of wants to feel the burn of it against his lips anyway. Something hot clenches in Hartley's stomach and he hates having to be the one to look away first.

Carefully, he stands up and walks over to sit next to the Knight. Handful of steps, no dizziness. Much improved indeed. "The healing trance helped a lot. Thanks," Hartley offers.

"You're welcome. Glad to see you're doing better." There's a little fire going in front of him and Cisco makes room on the edge of the blankets so that Hartley gets some of that heat too.

"Comm is functional, but no one seems to be receiving our signal yet, though it, uh, it intercepted a signal when I was testing out how far you'd gotten it." Cisco handed over Hartley's share of the rations. "I'm a little uneasy about what I overheard."

"We're all smugglers and mercenaries around these parts," Hartley tells him absently, "but Obsidian's got a code. No sentient trafficking. So if you..."

"No. That's… not it at all." Cisco fidgets. "I was actually supposed to come to Obsidian. Easy mission. Pick up a Jedi fighter that got abandoned on Jakku and then skip over to Obsidian and make a trade with smuggler who sometimes does business with the Dantooine Council. He'll point us at Force related artifacts or pick them up himself and sell it to us at a decent mark-up."

Hartley snorted in amusement.

"I intercepted a transmission from him, actually. Force working in weird ways, I guess. But… he was talking to a Jedi from the Coruscant Council. My master – former masters's – least favorite brother."

And Hartley tensed. Forced himself to breathe normally. It couldn't be… too much of a coincidence. It couldn't be.

"And its probably just more of the Coruscant Temple's latest penchant for political bullshit. But I'm uneasy about him being here." Cisco let out a shaky breath himself.

"If you're that uncomfortable, are you going to reach out to him when we reach town?" Hartley tries to make the question nonchalant but he's fucking terrified suddenly.

"I don't know. I don't… Master Harry and his brother do not get along at all. I mean… Master Harry can kind of be a dick sometimes – definitely the tormenting older brother type when he's around HR, but he'd always say I could trust HR to have my back if I needed it. Harrison he'd tell me to stay the hell away from for my own safety."

It's all Hartley can do not to make a little wounded noise because, oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck… Master Harrison Wells was on the planet. The same planet Hartley was stuck on.

His former master was going to kill him.

If Master Wells was on planet, sniping an artifact out from under the Dantooine Council's nose, then…

"It's a Sith artifact, isn't it? What you're here to pick up." And, shit, Hartley shouldn't have asked that, given the sharp look Cisco gives him.

"Y...yes. How would you know to guess that?"

Because he has reason to know just what sort of political bullshit goes on in the Coruscant Council… because…

Hartley wants to tell Ramon the truth. It's been a long time since he's felt like he could do that and Cisco Ramon just radiates everything the Jedi are supposed to be. Sincerity and compassion and… and Hartley can't let himself trust that. He can't.

It'd undo him.

So Hartley shrugs and says 'lucky guess' and then goes to sleep early after the food is done. Not that he actually manages to sleep until hours later. But he either fakes it well enough that the Knight can't tell or… Ramon is being strangely polite in not calling Hartley on his rapidly crumbling house of cards.

* * *

The walk towards the settlement is quiet. Uncomfortably so. Cisco tries to fill the silence with babble, but he doesn't last long and then they're just… quiet.

He doesn't regret telling Rath about Master Wells or Cisco's own assignment here. Neither were classified, it's pretty common for Jedi to pick up Force related artifacts. That Rath guessed it had something to do with the Sith, though.

That suggested familiarity with Master Wells in some way, because it was mentioning Master Wells that changed Holloway's teasing, flirty attitude into chilly silence, with a hint of panic below the surface.

Cisco thinks of his vision and the red lightsaber. He hadn't seen who was holding the saber, but that rage…

And then he tries to think of other things. It doesn't really help.

When they stop for lunch, the comm unit reaches Lisa Snart, younger sister of the Captain of the crew that kidnapped Cisco. Which… considering that they really just stole a container he happened to be hiding in, well…

He lets it go and hopes he's not about to be stuck back in binders when their 'rescuers' arrive on speeders.

Cisco recognizes Mick Rory when the man arrives along with a brunette woman. Lisa Snart herself, who hugs Rath straight off getting out of the hovercraft. Jealousy rises in Cisco's chest, much to his surprise. Rath was cute and smart (and a smartass which was both in his favor and against it) but Cisco hadn't thought he'd liked the guy quite this much. But apparently… Cisco sighed softly and let the feeling dissipate into the Force.

"Looks like we'll be able to get a new ship after all, what with you saving our ransom there Holloway," Rory rumbled, smirking at Cisco.

With great effort, Cisco did not immediately reach for his lightsaber.

"He saved my life," Rath said mildly, but there was something sharp beneath the tone. "I'd be dead on that beach or drowned in the ocean if not for him. We're not using him as ransom."

"I agree. With Lenny..." Lisa let out a shaky breath. "With Lenny missing, I'm in charge. If we owe him Rath's continued good health, then we'll give him a lift back to civilization and let him go with our thanks." She held out a hand. "Lisa Snart. It's a pleasure."

"Cisco Ramon," he replied, hesitantly accepting the handshake.

Mick rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he grumbled getting back into the driver's seat of the speeder.

Lisa hopped over the side back into the front passenger seat, leaving the backseat for Cisco and Rath. So they climbed in and Cisco leaned over to mutter a thank you to Rath. Mostly because he really didn't want to have to run away in the forest with no clue which way town was located.

Rath just huffed a laugh and closed his eyes, settling in for a nap. Exhausted as well, Cisco figured he might as well follow the other man's lead.

The speeder jerking to a halt roused Cisco from his nap and he blinked in the late evening sunlight.

"You okay there?" Rath asked, getting out of the speeder and stretching his legs. And his arms; Cisco might've been a little distracted as the tattered shirt under the loaned out robe slid over Holloway's taut stomach.

"Fine, thanks." Cisco got out of the speeder to do a little stretching himself. "I don't suppose you know where I can find Gim Daylen?"

"That the contact you were supposed to meet?" Rath asked.

"Yeah."

Rory gestures down the street. "Two blocks down that way, first shop on the corner. Daylen's name is on the sign."

"Be careful," Rath says, moving around to hand Cisco back the over robe. There's something intense and worried about the way he's looking at Cisco. He hesitates a moment, then adds quietly, "Sith artifacts are always booby-trapped. Don't touch them with your bare hands if you can avoid it. And don't trust Wells."

Holloway used to be at the Coruscant Temple. Cisco can feel the certainty of that thought, the rightness of it in the Force.

"I'll be careful. Promise." The idea that this may be the last time he sees Holloway hurts a little, but after that spike of jealousy early its not surprising. He wishes he had the time to get to know the other man better, to see if the flirting and attraction could go anywhere… but they had their own lives to live.

"Good." Holloway hesitated again and then… "if something goes wrong, come find me, alright?"

"Alright…." Cisco took a step back. "I'll see you around, Holloway."

"Good luck, Knight Ramon."

Naturally, things went wrong pretty fast. It wasn't difficult to find Daylen's shop based on Rory's directions. Of course, the small crowd around the store helped. A crowd convened because Gim Daylen was dead.

Sithspit.

* * *

Hartley luxuriates in the fresher for probably longer than he should've. But it felt great having the sonics knock the worst of the remaining blood from his body, like a full body massage. He switches to water in order to soap up and rinse, then back to the sonics to dry off. His hair is still lightly damp when he steps out and changes into clean pants and a shirt. None of it fits quite right – Lisa loaned him her brother's clothes and he'll have to go buy new ones in the morning – but it'll do for now.

He transfers the lightsaber over to his new clothing, but the blaster, credits, and ident card go in his bunk. Hartley heads out to get food next, only to stop when he finds Lisa standing out in the hallway waiting for him.

"Are you going to be disappearing on us soon, Rath?" she asks, sounding tired. "I know about the lightsaber. Never said a thing because it seemed like something you were running from but couldn't quite bear to let go. Only ever told Lenny and he said to let it lie. But now…"

"I was a padawan to a very awful Jedi," Hartley admitted. Lisa had always been kind to him. A good friend. If she wanted the truth now… she deserved it. "And when I tried to speak up about what he was doing… I was thrown out of the order. And he promised to kill me if he ever found me again. He's on planet right now, Lisa."

"So you're not just worried that the little Jedi you saved might accidentally get word of you into the wrong ears… you're worried this other Jedi is going to sense you here. Through the Force or whatever."

Hartley nodded. "The last thing I want is to land trouble at your doorstep, Lisa. There are ways to keep from being sensed through the Force, but..."

"You're family. Your trouble is our trouble," Lisa tells him and…

He feels so guilty. He doesn't want to leave, but staying couldn't possibly be safe. "My trouble could get you killed, Lise."

"Picking up that Jedi got the ship destroyed," Lisa says with certainty. "Don't try to tell me it didn't. Duella the Hutt doesn't have a reach all the way to Obsidian. And Len..."

"He isn't dead," Hartley tells her, resolutely.

"What? The Force tell you that?" Her tone's a little snide.

"Yeah, actually. It does. Wherever he is, he's safe. Can't tell more than that." He shrugged when she eyed him, probably thinking about all the times he'd had a bad feeling about something and turned out to be right. Now Hartley was having a good feeling about something so… she was likely hoping he'd be right about this too.

"Rath Holloway isn't your real name, is it?"

"Nope." Hartley didn't offer more and she didn't push either.

"Dinner time, Rath," she said, turning on her heel. And, for now, it seemed that was that.

Until, midway through dinner, there was a knocking at their door. Mick led in a very worried looking Jedi Knight.

Nervously, Ramon blurted out. "Gim Daylen is dead. And I'm pretty sure Master Wells killed him."

* * *

Gim Daylen's shop was in Mandalorian territory. There was a clan, still wandering from the Mandalorian War that predated the Jedi Civil War. They refused to acknowledge the current line of Mandalore, descended from Canderous Ordo. There was a whole political spiel about it that Cisco knew, but didn't particularly care about at the moment. It wasn't relevant.

What was relevant was that the clan was investigating the murder. And Cisco showed up at their crime scene with a lightsaber in hand. A crime scene where the murder weapon was a pretty clearly a lightsaber.

Thankfully, Cisco was not arrested on sight. Instead he was called over to confirm the murder weapon was indeed a lightsaber. Everyone going in and out of the city got logged by border guards, so Cisco had actually been logged while he slept – incoming, Jedi Knight Cisco Ramon, survivor of destroyed ship The Rogue in downed escape pod, Trabia Beach. That was enough of an alibi for now, though telling the investigating Mandalorians that there was apparently a Sith holocron missing from the shop didn't make anyone happy.

This particular clan was rather salty about getting caught in yet another Jedi versus Sith conflict and, given their history, Cisco couldn't really blame them.

Anyway, Cisco couldn't think of anything else to do except head back to where he'd last seen Rath. Without any credits to his name, Cisco had no where else he could go and no way to contact the Dantooine Council without help. He'd been counting on using Daylen's comm unit to contact the Council and have funds wired to him.

Cisco pretends he's not thoroughly intimidated by Mick Rory when he opens the door. But the man is big and gruff and Cisco is totally intimidated. Adding that on top of what was a fairly shitty last hour, Cisco just blurts out what he's thinking.

Master Wells killed Gim Daylen and stole the Sith Holocron.

A Jedi committed murder.

It shouldn't make any sense at all. But there's something about Master Harrison Wells that makes Cisco's skin crawl from just the thought of him.

Rath and Lisa exchange uncertain looks and then Lisa says, "I think you'd better use our comm unit to contact that council of yours."

Cisco gets sent into a tiny room with an encrypted comm unit which Cisco cycles through a few times at random since the default encryption seed they were using was apparently the same one Master Wells was using. (Cisco would question the odds of that, but… the Force. He's stopped questioning coincidences since he was a junior Padawan.)

When Cisco gets through to the Dantooine Council, it takes him a few minutes to verify his identity and get the late night operator – a very cranky padawan who is pretty clearly on punishment detail – to rouse Master Harry from his bed. And if Master Harry was going to be answering in the middle of the night, then it meant Master Tess would be on the line too.

For a moment, Cisco relaxes. But then he tenses up again as Rath slips into the room.

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asks.

"Not yet. It's the middle of the night at the Dantooine Temple, so I'm waiting on a runner to get Master Harry and Tess up."

Rath tenses and then breathes out slowly. "Will Master Harry actually believe you about his brother?"

"Yes." Cisco is absolutely certain.

"Good."

"Cisco?" Harry's voice comes over the comm and Cisco is instantly distracted from whatever is going on with Holloway.

"Master Harry," Cisco replies. "It's good to hear your voice."

"Yours too, Padawan. Even if it is a god awful hour of the night. You never checked in on Jakku. What happened?"

Cisco proceeds to give a report on how his mission has repeatedly gone to shit. Which has Master Harry laughing at him at one point, but Cisco probably deserves that. He stops laughing when Cisco gets to the part about The Rogue being blown up by an unknown ship.

Possibly because that's when Rath makes his presence known, coolly adding to Cisco's report details about the attack that Cisco didn't know. They finish updating Master Harry together, bringing him up to speed on Master Harrison's presence and Gim Daylen's death… and Cisco's certainty that Master Harrison murdered him.

Harry swore rather creatively, which is when Tess must've arrived.

"Oh, Force, what set him off this time?"

"My brother murdered Cisco's contact for the Sith holocron, that's what fracking happened," Harry told her and… Cisco feels something shift around Rath's Force presence, though he can't be quite sure what that something is.

"Son of a nerf herder," Tess mutters, barely picked up by the comm's microphone. "You're sure?"

"I can't prove it, but yes. I'm sure."

"He said he's here on the behalf of he Coruscant Council," Cisco added. "I just thought they were playing politics again. But with Daylen dead..."

"It's more than that," Harry groaned. "I'm sending Barry to join you."

"I'll be joining him too," Tess insisted, then added teasingly, "Harry broke his leg, so he'll just have to stay and fret."

"If my leg weren't broken, I'd..."

"Do not finish that sentence. Do not," Cisco warned. "Oh, for the love of the Force, do not flirt in front of me."

"Technically we're not in front of you," Tess pointed out.

"I hate you both," Cisco groaned, smiling faintly when Rath snickered.

"Who else is with you?" Tess asked.

"Rath Holloway. I'm part of the Rogue's crew. Or I was anyway. We're going to need a new ship, though. What are you planning to do about this Jedi Master running around on Obsidian?" Rath's voice sounds tense.

"Arrest him. The Coruscant Council has been pushing a regressive agenda over the last decade that's been allowing Knights and Masters like my brother run unchecked. And I've had reason to believe for the last several years that Harrison has been at the very least dabbling in the Dark Side of the Force. This could finally be our chance to start unraveling the Council's corruption to see how deep it all actually goes." Harry makes a displeased sound. "I wish it didn't come at Daylen's expense. He was a friend."

"Seven years ago, your brother had a padawan," Rath says quietly. "This padawan reported his master for mistreatment. Master Wells in turn accused his padawan of studying the dark side, offering as evidence a Sith holocron found in his padawan's possession. The padawan was expelled without further investigation and the complaint of mistreatment was summarily rejected."

This time it was Tess who started swearing, which should have had Cisco staring in shock at the comm unit because Tess only ever used the mildest of swears but was now being as vulgar as her husband could get. Cisco is too busy staring at Rath, though, because… this explained everything, didn't it? How Holloway learned to use the Force, why he freaked out when Cisco brought up Master Harrison...

"Why did the padawan have the holocron?" Harry asked.

"Because his master gave it to him, claiming it was a Jedi holocron. The Sith within the holocron never let on it was anything else, not until Master Harrison needed it to, that is." Rath's voice is stilted, wooden as he spoke.

"It is not allowed for the Coruscant Council to do that. I am going to the archives and I'm going to damn well find evidence of their dereliction of duty towards a padawan and just you wait until the Corellian Council hears about this..." Tess's voice started to drift off.

"Send Master West with Barry in your place," Harry advised. "They'll like having a chance to work together again and we really need to have a Council Master present when apprehending Harrison. This has to be completely aboveboard. And you, Holloway. What's your real name, kid?"

Rath bristles. "Hartley Rathaway."

Cisco breathes out sharply.

"I'm tired of running because I'm afraid of him." Rath… no, Hartley. Hartley Rathaway, former Jedi Padawan. He looks like what he's saying is costing him a great deal.

"I can't guarantee you'll be safe," Harry tells him. "But if you're willing to come with Cisco and the other Jedi back to Dantooine once Harrison has been apprehended, your testimony against both Harrison and the Coruscant Council would carry a great deal of weight. It might feel like too little too late, but they will face judgment for what they've done."

Hartley closed his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath. "I want to watch his support crumble out from beneath him. So, yeah. I'll go to Dantooine and testify."

* * *

After Cisco is wired access to a Jedi account, the connection cuts. Knight Allen and Master West are due to arrive on Obsidian in two days.

Hartley has a sick feeling that they're going to be too late. Master Harrison isn't going to stick around that long. They all know it.

Cisco is probably going to try to go after Master Wells himself. He's got that gung-ho, runs headlong into danger air about him. And Hartley…

Force help him, but he likes Cisco.

This is going to be such a disaster. But, if he plays his cards right, he might finally get to stop running. Lisa's claim of family was too much for him to let go of, it seemed. And now he was committed.

May the Force be with him.


End file.
